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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28035624">these moments build our love like snowdrifts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/shireness/pseuds/shireness'>shireness</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>and he called her love amongst the snowflakes [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Once Upon a Time (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Modern Royalty, they're in looooooooove</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:54:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,233</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28035624</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/shireness/pseuds/shireness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span>Killian had asked at the beginning of their relationship, that fateful New Year’s night, how exactly one went about dating the crown princess. Turns out, those are things he’ll have to figure out as he goes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>A sequel to “and he called her love amongst the snowflakes”.</span>
  </em>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>and he called her love amongst the snowflakes [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2053602</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>94</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>these moments build our love like snowdrifts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A year ago, I wrote @owlways-and-forever a modern royalty fic for the CS Secret Santa exchange, and when she (and a bunch of others) expressed interest in a sequel, I foolishly said I agreed and had ideas and would Get Right On That.</p>
<p>And then - I *didn't*.</p>
<p>Anyways, here it finally is. Sorry for the long wait, y'all. I hope you like it!</p>
<p>Rated M for mature smut-type content. And thanks, as always, to my wonderful beta @snidgetsafan, my ultimate partner in crime.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> Emma, Crown Princess of Misthaven, is everything a man could dream of - and Killian counts himself the luckiest bastard to be granted the honor of courting her. Dating Emma isn’t like dating any other, less prestigious woman, however, and the further they go along, the more he realizes there are guidelines to the endeavor, little rules he has to discover for himself. There isn’t a list, per se - but if he were to make one, it might look something like this:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b> <em>1. Her well-being is more important than your own.</em> </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s a great debate amongst the powers that be - whoever they are - about whether his dating the princess while employed as her brother’s security detail is a conflict of interest.</p>
<p>Personally, Killian is torn. Mostly, he doesn’t think so - after all, he spends most of the year in an entirely different city from Emma, two and a half hours away as Leo attends university. Most of the time, she’s not around to create a conflict of interest.</p>
<p>On the other hand, he can see where these concerns are coming from. Now that he doesn’t have to pretend otherwise and forcefully steer himself back to a focused mindset, those times when he is in Emma’s company he’s so absolutely dazzled by everything about her. It’s easy to see where some would be concerned about his ability to protect her younger brother. There’s the matter, too, that his feelings may one day cloud his ability to prioritize her brother in dangerous situations - neglecting his job in the process. </p>
<p>So, his superiors come up with a compromise. During the school year, when Killian is with Leo at the prince’s university, he continues with his job as normal. On school vacations and during summers spent at home, however, he cedes his duties to alternate personnel and takes a posting behind the scenes, monitoring the security cameras in the public areas of the palace. It’s a periodic demotion, technically - no one has ever pretended that monitoring the security cameras is fascinating work, even though he didn’t get into this business hoping for non-stop excitement - but Killian is happy to take it if it means that he and Emma can be together. </p>
<p>(Not that it would have stopped them, he knows - he’s far too smitten, and she’s far too stubborn to break off their relationship for something so small as <em> security concerns </em>.)</p>
<p>One of the real benefits of the arrangement, in Killian’s opinion, is that he and Emma can have lunch together on days that she isn’t away on an engagement. They’re few and far between, but he treasures every one. Plus, there’s something uniquely amusing about watching  Emma across from him in the basement break room, surrounded by industrial beige walls and communal microwaves.</p>
<p>“You don’t regret it, do you?” she asks one day, practically out of the blue. Usually, lunchtime chats are much more lighthearted than whatever this is veering towards - idle talk about his day and her day and maybe about an upcoming dinner date. Like any other workplace couple enjoying a moment together in the breakroom before going their separate ways once the meal is over. </p>
<p>“Regret what, love?” he returns before taking another bite of his leftover spaghetti. Emma’s own lunch looks much more appetizing - a beautiful sandwich on what must be fresh herb bread. Maybe one day he can wheedle her into bringing him a little something more satisfying than his leftovers and tv dinners; he doubts it would take much arm-twisting.</p>
<p>“What we’re doing here - <em> dating </em>, when it affects your job like this?” Emma fiddles with the edge of the paper that wrapped her sandwich as she speaks - a curious display of nerves and uncertainty from a woman usually so confident and assured. Killian finds that he doesn’t much like it. “We didn’t really consider what would happen once we started dating, did we? We just… kissed and dived right in. Figured it would all sort itself out.”</p>
<p>“And what a lovely kiss it was,” Killian teases before turning more serious. “But you’re right, we didn’t. Perhaps that was… shall we say, a bit <em> naive </em> of us. Still. I don’t regret it. It’s a bit boring, yes, but the pay hasn’t changed - and most importantly, it means I get to see <em> you </em> .” A more frightening thought strikes him as he finishes his little speech. “Do you - do <em> you </em>regret it? Dating me, I mean, when I’ve turned out to be just a man who stares at screens all day instead of doing something dashing?”</p>
<p>“<em> No </em> ,” she tells him emphatically. “You know I don’t care about that, Killian. It’s always been <em> you </em> I’m interested in, not your job. I’m only grateful for your job because that’s how we met.” She pauses for a minute, before breaking into a smirk. “Besides - your normal job is dealing with Leo. That’s the furthest thing imaginable from <em> dashing </em>.”</p>
<p>“Too right, love.”</p>
<p>(Even in the beige basement breakroom, it is easy to laugh with her - and he doesn’t regret a single thing.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b> <em>2. You’re not just courting a woman - you’re courting her family.</em> </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Every “meet the parents” conversation Killian has ever had pales in comparison to this one. After all, it’s not every day you sit down to dinner with your monarch and her consort.</p>
<p>It’s made even more uncomfortable, weirdly enough, by the fact that they’re already somewhat familiar with each other - just in a professional sense, not a personal one. They can’t fall back behind the usual questions about <em> what do you do for a living </em> when everyone knows the answer very well. </p>
<p>(Leo, at least, had been easy to please when they’d told him about their relationship - more bored than anything else.</p>
<p>“Just, like, keep it to yourselves, will you?” had been his only demand. “Nobody wants to see that.”</p>
<p>Teenagers.)</p>
<p>Right now, the table the five of them sit around seems enormous, the china and silver cutlery, nicer than any dinnerware Killian has ever owned. Or possibly used. Casual Fridays or Taco Tuesdays aren’t exactly things that happen in the primary home of Misthaven’s royal family. There are priceless paintings hanging on the walls and crystal chandeliers and a table that’s so big and heavy it must have somehow been constructed right in the room so it never has to move again. It makes Killian feel small, and like an outsider in the worst way.</p>
<p>(It had been somewhat manageable, back in December when it had been just him and Emma and Leo in the room, but there’s something about adding her <em> parents </em> , the <em> Queen and Prince Consort </em>, to the mix that makes Killian feel like he’s about to be swallowed alive by the room, absorbed by the gilt mirrors and ornate walls and never seen again.)</p>
<p>(Then again - that might just be standard meet-the-parents nerves.)</p>
<p>“So Killian,” her mother - the <em> queen! </em> - asks, clearly attempting conversation in a way he’s currently struggling to, “I don’t think we’ve ever heard how you chose to make the military your career.”</p>
<p>Killian hastily swallows his bite of lamb - very good, really, not overcooked like he’s grown to expect from most renditions. “I was following in my brother’s footsteps, actually - Liam. He’s five years older than me, joined up in the Navy right after high school. We didn’t have a lot of money growing up, and it was a guaranteed steady job for him. I just looked up to him so much that it seemed natural to follow him into enlisting once I turned eighteen.”</p>
<p>“A little bit of a hero complex,” Emma teases beside him. </p>
<p>“Aye, a little,” Killian laughs back. “The Navy was good for me, though - structure, stability, a sense of purpose, all that.”</p>
<p>“If it was so good for you, why did you leave?” Emma’s father asks. It’s clear he’s more hesitant about all this than his wife - doubtless some kind of <em> daddy’s little girl </em> thing, from what Emma has told him of their relationship - but he’s being civil enough. It’s better than some greetings he’s gotten from fathers in his time, especially in school.</p>
<p>“Liam left,” Killian shrugs. “He’s entirely out of the business, now - went back to school and became an engineer, actually. Settled down, met a nice girl, got married and had a kid. I did another two years without him, but once my nephew was born… I wanted to be a bit closer to my family, small as it is. Unlike Liam, though, the service is about all I’m cut out for.” He smiles self-deprecatingly to soften the words, but he can already see Emma’s face getting that look of affectionate consternation he’s more used to seeing directed at Leo.</p>
<p>“That’s not true,” she scolds. “You’re good at plenty of things.”</p>
<p>“That’s very kind of you to say, lo- <em> Emma </em>,” he says, catching himself before the endearment slips loose and reaching over to squeeze her hand, “but as far as a job is concerned, it rather is. And that’s not a bad thing! Like I said, the structure of it all suits me. I’ve no idea what I would be doing otherwise. Frankly, I figured I’d be looking at security job positions, until recruiters came around looking for men and women to transfer to Protective Services. Better pay, duties that would keep me on dry land instead of stranded in the middle of the ocean, no more bunks —” he’s gratified to see both of Emma’s parents chuckle at that little joke — “well, it was a no brainer. Never looked back, and here we are.”</p>
<p>“Here we are,” Emma echoes, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. </p>
<p>(If he blushes - well, they <em> are </em>right in front of her parents, after all.)</p>
<p>“And did you have any female captains or commanders during your time?” Emma’s father asks - a seeming non-sequitur. “There’s a lot of men who don’t react well to women in charge.”</p>
<p>Ah. Not so unrelated then. </p>
<p>“Yes I did - a handful of superiors I reported to were women. All highly capable, who demanded respect but would have earned it from me anyways. I found that the right people were in charge - brilliant, strategic men and women who knew what they were doing. That’s the part that always mattered to me.”</p>
<p>It’s not just lip service - it’s genuinely the truth - but he knows they’re speaking about more than Killian’s former Naval career. Emma will be Queen one day, and she deserves a partner at her side happy to support her while still fine that she is indisputably in charge. Her father can’t be blamed for prodding at that - no parent could. </p>
<p>“Good,” her mother smiles. “I value that in the same way - and, of course, it is always a relief to hear from the men on the ground, so to speak, that they find command to be in the right hands. Now, you mentioned a nephew - how old is he, now?”</p>
<p>As the conversation moves on, Killian can’t help but feel like he passed an impromptu test. He’s still not fully comfortable at the center of all this, but it’s getting easier, his nerves relaxing bit by bit. It’s a start.</p>
<p>(There will be many dinners to come, if this relationship goes the way he hopes.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b> <em>3. Communication is key, especially when apart.</em> </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The distance is a challenge - there’s no two ways about it. Killian sees Emma as much as their schedules allow, driving back to the capital when he has a few days off in a row, but they’ve grown quite used to texting and calling and video chatting. They’d have to, to have any chance of maintaining a relationship. </p>
<p>Texting is mostly for little things - funny things that happen during their days, minor gripes, all the everyday observances that they might trade even if they <em> weren’t </em> living in different cities.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> I’m going to scream if it rains another day, I swear to everything holy. I’ve said it before, but what’s the damn point of this royalty bullshit if you can’t control the weather? </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b> <em>Leo seems determined to get on my last nerve - was I ever this obnoxious about my homework and slipping away to go snog a girl in some darkened corner? Bloody hell, I’m going to have to apologize to Liam next time I see him.</em> </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Lol - mom and dad are having me go to the grand opening of some animal rescue center today. Totally their fault if I come home with a dog. You’ll back me up, right? I’m counting on you, Jones… </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b> <em>I miss you, love.</em> </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He sends that last one a lot, actually. Missing Emma is like a sweet ache that blooms into something more acute at the most unexpected moments: when he sees a flash of blonde hair that almost matches hers, or catches a glimpse of her on the nightly news or in the newspaper, or just sees something he thinks she’ll like. </p>
<p>More often than not, this brings them to phone calls. Phone calls are for sleepy good mornings or sweet good nights, or for all those times one or the other thinks they can’t go a moment longer without hearing the other’s voice. Mornings and evenings are routine, now, to start and end the day on a good note. He enjoys hearing about her day, and telling her about his in return. His day is always so much less exciting, though doubtless she’d claim otherwise; in his opinion, there’s not much to report from following Leo to his college classes, except for the occasional gossip about her brother’s fledgling love life. It’s much more interesting to hear about hers - all the people she gets to meet and things she gets to see, both mundane and spectacular. </p>
<p>She calls him a lot from the car, too, as she’s driven from place to place. The rumble of tires becomes a common background noise to their little chats, a pleasant hum he starts to associate with happiness like that ridiculous Pavlov nonsense from Leo’s Intro Psychology class. </p>
<p>“I hope you don’t mind,” Emma says one time as the tires rumble and hum again and he knows she’s calling him between commitments. “I know I’m not really calling for any reason, and maybe the background noise is driving you nuts, but… I guess I’d rather talk to you than read or play with my phone or anything else.”</p>
<p>“Of course not, love. I don’t mind at all.” </p>
<p>(What else would he say, when she phrases it like that?)</p>
<p>His favorite, though, are the video chats. They hold dates, of a sort, like this: watching movies together and eating dinner at the same time and all the other things they resort to to mimic the dates they might have together in person. It’s not quite the same, of course; it’s impossible to ever forget the two and a half hours with good traffic stretching between them. There’s a unique endearing quality, however, to learning all the ways her face can crinkle as she searches for that perfect angle. She never finds it, of course, though she undoubtedly comes closer than he does; it <em> is </em>a terrible phone screen view after all. </p>
<p>“We’ll do this in person soon,” he promises towards the end of the spring semester. “No more screens. Just you and me and a nice dinner somewhere.”</p>
<p>“Mmmm, that’ll be nice.” They’re both already in bed, faces smashed against pillows and getting more and more drowsy as they talk. “I’m glad we have this, though. I don’t know how we would have managed without all the calls and texts and videos and whatnot.”</p>
<p>“We would have managed somehow,” he says decisively. “But I’m glad we don’t have to.”</p>
<p>“Me too. I’ve never been good at writing letters and cards and shit.”</p>
<p>That’s his princess. </p>
<p>(There are other texts and calls and videos too - ones suggestive and downright racy, that set his blood boiling and arousal chasing through his veins, occasionally at inconvenient times. Behind that impeccable proper and regimented exterior that she shows to the public is a fiery, saucy woman - one who likes to taunt him. He never thought he’d be <em> sexting </em> the crown princess, even after they began dating - but here they are.)</p>
<p>(His favorite of all of these communications, though, are the little texts he gets out of the blue just to say <em> I love you </em>. They’re like little gems that brighten his day, and he treasures every one.</p>
<p>Even with the distance - he’s the luckiest bastard alive.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b> <em>4. The Princess is more than just a title and a tiara.</em> </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s not that he forgets she’s a princess. She lives in a palace, for goodness’ sake; the evidence of who she and her family are surrounds them at all times. But usually, even if she is the crown princess, she’s <em> Emma </em>more than anything else - his girlfriend who he loves, who snorts when she laughs and has to watch every new superhero movie and would eat cheese all day every day if allowed. It’s easy a lot of the time to push the glitz and glam to the back of his mind. </p>
<p>That’s probably why it hits him so suddenly and oddly to see her all decked out like this.</p>
<p>Consciously, he knew this was coming. There’s a diplomatic reception tonight as the King and Queen of Glowerhaven visit Misthaven, and Killian knows full well that receptions like these are tiara events. He’s attended several on the security detail, after all, though tonight he won’t be attending in any capacity. </p>
<p>Still - it’s one thing to know this is coming, and another to see the princess - his <em> girlfriend </em> - standing in front of him with perfect, royal posture and a cluster of diamonds and sapphires on her head. It’s like looking at a postage stamp come to life, he thinks hysterically. She’s <em> regal </em>, in a way that’s surprisingly easy to forget in all the casual (and more salacious) moments they share.</p>
<p>“What’s the verdict?” she asks, spinning around for his inspection. As if she could ever be anything but perfectly beautiful. The dress is dark blue and flowing, draped beautifully about her body in a way that will make her appear to float when she walks. A glittering belt cinches the tulle about her waist, and she wears sapphire earrings and a necklace to match the tiara crowning her head. Perhaps a different man, and almost certainly a different woman, could speak with more articulate knowledge about each piece, and how it all works together to create such an elegant silhouette; Killian has never particularly cared to learn. All he knows is that she’s exquisite, beautiful in an otherworldly way that makes him all too aware once again of how much of a lucky bastard he is to lay any claim to her heart.</p>
<p>“Emma, you look… <em> stunning </em>,” he finally says. “Quite literally. Consider me stunned.”</p>
<p>“Flatterer,” she laughs - though he can’t help but notice the way she also beams in satisfaction at the pronouncement. It only makes her more beautiful - a feat he hadn’t thought possible. </p>
<p>Killian takes the chance of reaching to draw her towards him, half afraid he’ll discover her just to be some very convincing illusion. Thankfully, she is not, coming gladly to rest her hands on his chest. With whatever doubtlessly ridiculous heels she’s wearing, their slight height difference is nearly evened. He barely has to dip his head to brush his lips across hers - just a gentle thing, so as not to muss up her lipstick. “It’s just the truth, love.”</p>
<p>“Hmmm. Guess I’ll have to take you at your word, then.” She presses up on her toes to drop another kiss on his own lips. “I’ll see you after? You’ll be here when I get back?”</p>
<p>“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”</p>
<p>What an absurd question, really. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b> <em>5. Discretion is of the utmost importance.</em> </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s a bed, somewhere in this room. A really nice bed at that, big and roomy with soft sheets and fluffy pillows.</p>
<p>However. This is a very large room, with an unfortunate amount of furniture between here and the bed - settees and end tables and all manner of ridiculous pieces - and frankly, this wall is more than suitable for his current purposes. Namely, trying to engage in… more <em> enjoyable </em> activities with his girlfriend.</p>
<p>“You’ve gotta get this off,” Killian mumbles against her neck, tugging at the scooped back of her dress with a hand as he mouths at her pulse point. It’s a pretty floral number, one he’d been rather a fan of earlier in the night when they’d attended a charity function of some kind. The finer details of the evening rather escape him at the moment with Emma’s hands pulling at his belt. </p>
<p>“I could say the same about you, Jones,” she pants. “This belt is the absolute fucking devil, gods above.”</p>
<p>Though Killian can’t help but chuckle at the description, it doesn’t slow down his efforts to get her undressed - not when it’s so <em> easy </em> and <em> enticing </em> to slip his hand under her poofy skirt to grip at her bare thigh and pull her leg around his waist so he can more easily grind his pelvis against hers. It’s only when he gives up on looking for the zipper to her dress that he finds it, ironically, the palm of his hand catching on the hidden side zip as he draws it around to cup her breast instead. As much as he hates to pull away, it’s worth it to see the blasted dress drop to the floor, leaving Emma only in her black heels and her underthings.</p>
<p>(He’d actually been quite taken with that dress at the beginning of the night, and thought Emma looked wonderful in it. At the end of the night, there are more important things - and Emma looks most wonderful in nothing at all.)</p>
<p>(Mostly, he’s just glad there’s no tiara involved here - it would <em> not </em>have survived his enthusiasm to get her undressed, not when shoving his hand into her styled hair already set off an avalanche of bobby pins.)</p>
<p>It’s the work of but a moment to lift her up under her thighs, though several moments longer to cross the room to her bed. Even though he kind of hates the delay in the moment, he knows their backs will thank them in the morning. There’s something so alluring, anyways, about seeing her all spread out on the bed like this - propped up on her elbows, long legs with those spindly heels hanging over the edge, ready and waiting for him. Even with that ridiculous backless bra contraption, she’s sexy to a level he can’t quite describe. </p>
<p>“Well? Are you just going to stand there looking all night?” she demands - no, smirks, <em> taunts </em>. It’s something saucy, something that sets his blood boiling even hotter than it was already.</p>
<p>“With you laying there, waiting for me? Oh no, darling, I’m not <em> that </em>foolish.”</p>
<p>“Then take off your damn clothes and get over here.”</p>
<p>Now <em> that </em>was a command - and one he’s happy to follow. </p>
<p>As much as he’d enjoyed looking, it’s <em>so</em> unbelievably much better to be skin to skin as Killian crawls up her body for a passionate kiss. He’s absolutely stark naked, at her demand, and she’s left only in some lacy knickers after tossing the infernal bra to some corner and toeing off the heels (though, in truth, he wouldn’t have minded if she had kept those on; another time, perhaps).</p>
<p>“Tell me what you want, darling,” he tells her - <em> begs </em>her when they break the kiss for air. His hands are on the move, drifting down along her body to map out all that beautiful smooth skin. “I’ll give you whatever you want, anything you want, just tell me —”</p>
<p>“Just you, Killian,” she tells him, gasping and arching beneath him as one of his hands cups her breast, thumb passing over and over the nipple. “I just want <em> you </em>.”</p>
<p>And he’s happy to give that to her, with his mouth and his fingers and his cock, happily inching that last scrap of lace off her body to make way for all he wants to do with her and to her. It’s unbearably sentimental to say, but pushing into her heat feels like <em> home </em> in so many ways, like he was always meant to be here, in this moment. Killian lets Emma’s gasps and moans guide his movements as he begins to thrust, inwards and inwards and inwards until finally, <em> finally </em> she’s clenching and spasming and <em> coming </em> around him as she cries out her pleasure, and then he’s there, he’s <em> there </em>, his own orgasm burning through his body —</p>
<p>They curl together, after, Emma tucking her body along his side with her head on his chest and her leg tossed over his own. They should move, clean up a little, but that’s too much effort for the moment. Just a few minutes longer, and they’ll maybe take care of it. </p>
<p>“Gods, you’re good at that,” she mumbles against his skin. </p>
<p>Killian can’t help but chuckle at that, his laughter shaking his chest. “Well, you inspire a man to greatness, love,” he teases right back as he presses a kiss to the crown of her hair, where all those blonde locks are now mussed from his fingers and the way she’d kept tossing her head about. </p>
<p>“Mmmm, good.” There’s a moment of silence, Killian playing absentmindedly with the ends of her hair, before her head pops up with a smirk stretching her lips. “You got anything left for a round two later?”</p>
<p>He’ll manage, somehow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b> <em>6. Her Royal Highness is a public figure. Expectations of privacy must be tempered.</em> </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s unusual, becoming a figure of public interest. He’s always been a rather unremarkable man - at least as far as fame is concerned - and it’s jarring, to suddenly have his every move followed because of the woman he’s seeing.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, unusual does not even remotely mean <em> convenient </em>. </p>
<p>He loves Emma, more than anything, and if this is what he has to undergo to be with her, he’ll do it - but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t daydream about a simpler courtship and smaller gestures. He dreams about things like simply going to restaurants spontaneously, or taking in a museum without a security detail following them. The irony of his own colleagues having to watch them is not lost on Killian. Courting Emma is so often a feat of careful planning; he longs for the freedom of surprises, and last minute, simple pleasures. </p>
<p>He’s come to terms with that, mostly. He knew that’d be the case going in, after all, just part and parcel of dating the crown princess. What he’s <em> less </em> accepting of is the fact that they can’t live together, apparently. </p>
<p>It drives him nuts, really, because it’s been more than a year a half and they spend all of their time together. Killian sleeps in Emma’s apartments at the palace 75% of the time when they’re both in the same city - and besides, it’s not like the royal family doesn’t have properties to spare where they could set up an independent household, already set up for all of Emma’s security requirements. And yet, he still has to keep an apartment in the city that he barely uses, because they can’t make things <em> official </em>.</p>
<p>“It’s an optics thing,” Emma tries to explain once. “It doesn’t seem quite proper for the future queen to be living unmarried with her boyfriend.”</p>
<p>That just makes Killian snort. “It’s the 21st century, love. People who love each other move in together all the time. Hell, people who <em> don’t </em>love each other move in together all the time. It’s not like we’re breaking new ground.”</p>
<p>“We would be for the monarchy.”</p>
<p>“Well, maybe that needs to change.” He doesn’t even know why they’re arguing about this; he <em> knows </em> it’s something she doesn’t control, but it just grates on him. </p>
<p>“You’re not wrong,” she admits. “But there are a bunch of old fashioned people in this country, and just plain <em> old </em>people, and we’re supposed to be seeking their approval too. Which, apparently, means no cohabitation before marriage - or at least an engagement. Even if I completely agree with you that it makes sense for not-us couples to try out living together permanently before committing to any other relationship steps.”</p>
<p>Killian sighs. “I know. I just wish it was different. I’m sorry, darling.”</p>
<p>“It’s alright. If it helps, I think it’s pretty stupid too.”</p>
<p>“It does, a bit,” Killian laughs. “So… I guess this just means I’ll have to go find a ring first?”</p>
<p>“And come up with a better proposal than <em> that </em>, yeah.”</p>
<p>(Killian can work with that; after all, it won’t be a particular hardship to ask Emma to spend the rest of their lives together.)</p>
<p>(In the meantime, maybe he can see if he can just live in Liam’s spare bedroom for that 25% of the time in order to save on rent.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b> <em>7. Love her, with everything you have.</em> </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Stop fidgeting,” Liam chastises him with a nudge. “You look like you’ve got muscle spasms.” </p>
<p>“I do not,” Killian grumbles back, though that’s probably true. This little ante-chamber off the main cathedral space is too cramped for proper pacing, so Killian has resorted to bouncing on the balls of his feet in an effort to work off all the adrenaline coursing through his veins.</p>
<p>He’s not nervous. It’s not a life or death situation. He’s just waiting to marry the love of his life, and it turns out that can wreak havoc with your emotions in the best way. </p>
<p>He’s not getting cold feet, either - they’ve waited long enough for this, after two years of dating and what feels like a <em> lifetime </em> between their engagement and this day. He’d been just as nervous when he’d asked her to marry him - maybe even more so. It’s silly, looking back, because they’d talked about this - the possibility of marriage, and a life spent together. It’s something he knew Emma wanted, and it was - <em> is </em>something he knew he wanted, even if marrying a future queen will bring complications into his life. It’ll all be worth it, he knows, if he gets to spend the rest of his life with her. Still, his hands had shaken with nerves as he’d pulled out the ring box, presenting his heart right along with the diamond studded band. Then, when she’d tearfully said yes and he’d finally slipped the ring on her finger, he’d kept on shaking - this time, with relief as all the adrenaline ebbed away. </p>
<p>There’d been photos. There’d been interviews. There’d been a shocking amount of speculation about the dress that Emma <em> still </em> won’t let him see. There’d even been a surprisingly low-key rehearsal with a lot of laughter and good cheer. And now, the day is here - his wedding day, <em> their </em>wedding day. The beginning of the rest of their lives. </p>
<p><em> God </em>.</p>
<p>Now it’s just waiting for their cue, just as they practiced in rehearsal. The noise outside this little antechamber isn’t quite a roar, but it’s certainly not a whisper either. Killian knows the pews of the cathedral are filled not just with friends and family - Emma’s mother and brother and Killian’s sister-in-law and nephews included - but with so many representatives of other countries, here to witness the joyous occasion. There are faces out there that Killian has never met before, but will see for years to come at all matters of diplomatic occasions. Though he knows it’s Emma’s opinion that matters most, he still can’t help but hope the collected strangers here find him to be a worthy partner for the future sovereign. Mostly, Killian is trying not to think about the crowd; imagining all those faces watching him, and millions more from their television sets at home, makes him anxious that he’ll trip all over his words. </p>
<p>“There’s still time to run, technically,” Liam suggests, “though personally I think you’d be an idiot to do it.”</p>
<p>“I’m not going to <em> run </em> ,” Killian mutters a little mutinously. “I just don’t understand why time is moving so <em> slow </em>. What, are we going by theatre rules? Give everyone a few extra minutes to file in so they can buy concessions?”</p>
<p>“Somehow, I don’t think the dress code will mesh well with buttered popcorn.”</p>
<p>That’s true. The wedding is a full royal, formal event, with gowns and uniforms and white ties and tiaras with sashes and orders. Killian and Liam themselves are wearing dress uniforms from their time in the service; once all this is through, Killian supposes he’ll start amassing a collection of sashes and medals of his own. </p>
<p>Suddenly, after all that waiting, an assistant Killian doesn’t recognize peeks her head through the door. “The car carrying their highnesses is nearly here,” she tells them, ducking back out as soon as Killian nods his understanding. After all this waiting…</p>
<p>“That’s our cue,” Liam chimes in helpfully. Redundantly, really. “Are you ready, Brother?”</p>
<p>Killian nods decisively, allowing a grin to break through the nerves fluttering in his stomach. “Aye. I’m ready.”</p>
<p>“Then let’s go get you married and out of my hair.”</p>
<p>Walking in, Killian makes sure to nod graciously towards Emma’s mother, the Queen, where she sits in a gilded chair in the front row, Leo on one side of her and an empty chair on her other side for Prince David, who will be escorting his daughter down the aisle. The whole family has been wonderful to him - even Leo, in his own way. Though there are certain pressures that will inevitably come once he and Emma are married and he’s expected to take an active role in the family’s royal duties, they’ve been nothing but welcoming. He’s been really lucky, in that way; this would have been a nightmare if he hadn’t had their support.</p>
<p>(Then again, they’ve made it clear from the very beginning that they want nothing but to see Emma happy. He’ll never stop being thankful that her happiness is with <em> him. </em>)</p>
<p>Once he and Liam assume their places at the altar, it’s easier for Killian to focus on the decorations than the crowds or his own nerves. The cathedral is beautifully done up, with rich blue carpets and all kinds of flowers tied up in silver and gold ribbons. The whole room smells like a wonderful mix between that old building smell and the mass of flowers spread throughout. Greenhouses across Misthaven must have been drafted to the cause to pull off such an effect in January, but he and Emma had liked the idea of this nod to when they’d finally admitted their attraction and started their relationship. New Year’s Day hadn’t been workable, due to the royal family’s annual reception, but the weather is still beautifully chilled outside, snow coating everything like a winter wonderland - though the weather had been good enough not to snow on all the people he knows are standing outside.</p>
<p>Speaking of which - he can tell the exact moment that Emma arrives, as the persistent rumble of the crowd outside erupts into an outright roar.</p>
<p>“Showtime, Brother,” Liam leans forward to murmur in his ear - though Killian barely hears him. It feels like every muscle in his body has tensed in anticipation, his posture straightened to full attention, every ounce of his focus directed to those doors in anticipation of Emma’s arrival. </p>
<p>And then - she’s <em> here, </em>more beautiful than anything he could have imagined. Killian is vaguely aware of the movement of the congregation as they all stand to welcome the bride, but he only has eyes for his princess. Her gown is the stuff dozens of young girls’ dreams will be made of; Emma could almost certainly speak to the details much better than he, but it’s a creamy winter white with elbow-length sleeves and a full skirt and a long train. There’s an elegant bow at the waist, and maybe a hint of subtle embroidery at the sleeves and hem; it’s hard to tell from here, when Killian can barely take his eyes off her face or even see past the tears starting to gather in his eyes. All of it is topped by the veil he knows was worn by her mother on her own wedding day and what seems to be a veritable wall of diamonds floating above her hair. For all of his pouting about not seeing the dress ahead of time, the surprise has been more than worth it. She’s absolutely radiant as she walks down the aisle with a smile he knows is just for him. </p>
<p>(Her father looks very sharp too, he’s sure; David will have to forgive him for being too distracted by Emma to notice.)</p>
<p>It takes every ounce of his willpower not to rush down the aisle to meet Emma, but he manages to hold himself in place until she and her father reach him and his brother. David places her hand in his with a nod and a smile that Killian solemnly returns, and then the two of them are turning to climb the few steps to the dais before the priest. </p>
<p>It feels foolish to ask, after hearing the same words over and over already today, but Killian can’t help himself. “Are you ready, love? Beginning a life together?” he leans in to whisper in her ear.</p>
<p>Emma smiles beatifically back. “With you? Always.”</p>
<p>He plans to hold her to that. </p>
<p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Also posted on tumblr, where I'm @shireness-says. Come give it a like or a share or whatever.</p>
<p>Thanks for reading - let me know what you think!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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